Lucidity

Last night I had a dream that I was with my Mama. We were in the back bedroom of her house, a very familiar and normal place for us to be. We were going through old clothes, looking for a particular green dress. She had gone to all the closets in the house and brought all the dresses to that bedroom for us to search through.

It felt so natural to be in that room with Mama. I was so happy, and so at peace. There was not anything in the world, nothing imaginable, that I would have rather been doing than sitting right there in the floor of that bedroom of muted pinks and smoky grays, soaking in all the beautiful energy that could only be obtained by being in the presence of my precious, loving Mama.

Then as we put aside one particularly terrible dress (why did I even have that one, Mom?), I realized that Mama shouldn't be able to do all this work. Last time I saw her, she was so very sick...last time I saw her, she was unable to get up to even go to the bathroom...last time I saw her - 

No.

Last time I saw her, she was in her casket. My Mama is dead. This is a dream.

In the past when I have had a realization that I'm in a dream, it had been the greatest thing ever. 

I'm in a dream! I can do anything I want! I can fly. 

But there was no joy in this sudden lucidity. This time, it meant that my time with Mama was coming to an end once more. 

My Mama is dead.

So I sat there in the dream and I continued to sort through all the dresses, trying so hard to find the green one that Mama was looking for. I told Mama I love her. That made her smile.

Although I was sad to know it was a dream, I was so very grateful to have the perception of those precious few moments. I clung desperately to the time I had with her, knowing it was fleeting. I looked at her hard. I watched the way she picked up each dress. I listened to the carefree remarks she had about each one. I soaked up everything about being near her, close enough to touch. 

Please don't wake up yet please please please don't wake up yet please please oh please don't let my alarm go off. Not yet. Not for a long time. Pleasepleaseplease

In the end, the alarm squawked its horrible, stupid song. My eyes opened and I greeted the morning with my usual grumpy demeanor, but this morning it was also layered with thick sadness. The dream was over. Mama was gone. Again.

It was a dream, and I could have done anything imaginable.

I can fly. 

And the thing I wanted more than anything in the world was to have that time with my Mama.